Blind Panic
by Gleevengers98
Summary: Her breathing had quickened to a frightening level. Panic attack. This wasn't good. This wasn't good at all. "Clint...I need your help." Clint/Natasha one-shot omegle!fic TW: Panic Attacks


**Author's Note: This is an unbeta'd omegle!fic. If by any crazy chance my writing partner just happens to, by some crazy coincidence, be reading this, thank you so much. You are the Clint to me Natasha. To everyone else, Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: No matter how hard I have tried, I have not yet managed to gain ownership of the Avengers. Yet.**

**Trigger Warning: Panic Attacks**

Her breathing had quickened to a frightening level. Panic attack. This wasn't good. This wasn't good at all. "Clint...I need your help," she whispered into her com.

From his rooftop perch, Clint's brows creased as he heard her familiar voice crackled out over his com. Ducking down behind a nearby wall, he held his fingers to the device. "Tasha," he replied, trying to keep the urgency out of his tone, "Are you alright?"

"P-panic attack, c-came out of n-no where," she stuttered in between harsh breaths.

"Where are you?" he asked as he got to his feet and headed back towards the stairwell, not needing any further explanation

"Second d-door on the right. B-be c-careful, I took out a c-couple henchmen outside the r-room. Might b-be more."

"Stay right there. I'm coming to you." Ducking back inside, Clint carefully edged around the wall, checking for any security personnel. Finding the corridor empty, the waited for the security camera to slowly turn to the opposite end of the hall before swiftly moving towards the door Natasha had described, quickly opening it and slipping inside.

Natasha's breathing was worsening by the second. It had been a hell of a long time since she had one as bad as this. She had closed her eyes a while back but they snapped open as soon as Clint entered the room. "I-I'm sorry," she rasped.

The archer came over to kneel in front of her, one hand quickly squeezing hers. "It's alright, I've got you..." he murmured. Gently putting his hands at her sides, he eased her upright so that she was sitting straighter against the wall. "Take it slow, sweetheart. Everything's alright."

Natasha tries as hard as she possibly can but it seems that the simple act of breathing is nearly impossible. Her eyes now showed a look of blind panic, a single tear running down her face. "C-C-Clint…"

"Tasha, honey, look at me," he urged, looking her straight in the eyes as he placed his palm against her rapidly hitching chest in an attempt to steady her breathing, "Slow, deep breaths, yeah? Do it with me, come on now. In..." he took a slow, deep breath in to guide her, "And out..."

Natasha hung onto to Clint's hand with one of hers, the other resting against his chest. She took rasping inhales as deep as she could. Eventually her breaths evened out and an intense tiredness was all that was left in it's place. "Thank you," she whispered.

Clint gently cupped her cheek with one hand, his brows still creased with concern. "Are you alright?" he asked.  
She nodded unsure as to whether or not she was actually okay. Sure the attack was over but there was still loads of the underlying panic left.

Clint hastily muttered a few commands into his com device, before helping Natasha to her feet. "We're being extracted," he told her, wrapping an arm around her waist to help her stay upright, "They've called an abort."

"I'm sorry, this is all my fault," she said apologetically.

He shook his head. "I told them to abort," he clarified, leading her from the room, "I won't allow them to continue with you this vulnerable right now."

She bowed her head in shame. "Pretty pathetic, right? Panic attack for no reason," she mumbled.

"I won't let you talk about yourself like that, Tasha," he murmured, pausing for a moment to scan the corridor before them, "You're not pathetic, and you certainly shouldn't feel ashamed. I'm gonna help you through this."

Natasha looked up at him, disbelief evident in her eyes. Nobody had ever cared that much for her. Ever. "Do you really mean that?" She asked with only the slightest note of hope present in her voice.

He looked back at her, his expression genuine. "Of course I do. I'd never lie to you..."

She wrapped her arms around Clint and whispered in his ear, "Thank you."

Squeezing her back, Clint nodded in response. "Any time, Red..."

She smiled at the nickname he had used for her, "Let's get out of here," she said tiredly.


End file.
